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Coffee, Hot Coffee
Even before dawn, Liam Neeson, always got up, like clock work. In fact Liam, only in his teens, own a clock shop. Some might say he sold his mind for gears instead, other might say he keeps gears in his pocket, just in case his legs or arms stop working. But none of that is true. Liam, like many others, is a genius. Sort of. He believes that everyone is a genius, but in different ways, for instance, he is a genius in clockwork, and another might be a genius in mathematics. But that’s only him.
Slowly Liam got off his bed. Rubbing his eyes, he looked over at the many clocks to check the time: 3:07 am. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he got ready for the inevitably slow day ahead of him. As his feet touched the freezing floor before him, he instantly got cold, reminding him he is alone. His house isn’t known for being warm. As fast as possible, he ran to the shower, showered in cold water. Slow business means no heating bill. Without towel drying, he made his way to the sink. He made a few faces, deciding his teeth were clean enough, and he still wasn’t growing facial, he left the bathroom to get dressed. After entering his small kitchen, he realized he needs to go grocery shopping. But for now, a simple cafe would be nice. Grabbing his jacket he left his small ‘house’ (apartment).
The brisk Autumn air made Liam put his hands into his leather jacket, trying to keeps warm. Eyes glazed, he scanned the street, too early in the morning for the sun to get up, and for the cars to drive. But a few cafes, are open. He hurries to the closest one, desperate to get out of the cold, he gets to the door, shaking off any snow that had fallen on him, and opened the door.
A soft jingling echoed throughout the cafe. Liam rubbed his hands to warm them, it wasn’t working.
“H-Hello?” Liam called into the cafe. After a few moments a quiet voice called back.
“Just a minute!” after a few awkward minutes, a small young woman came barreling down the stairs.
“Sorry for the wait.” She says as she fixes her light brown hair into a sloppy bun. As she got behind the counter, he got a better look at her. She was small, in more ways than one she had a light tan and slightly round face. She has bright deep dark blue eyes, she was wearing an apron that covered her pale yellow t-shirt and part of her black skinny jeans. A small name tag is what finished it off. Cuma.
“No, it’s alright, Cuma.” She gave him a wide smile. Maybe he won’t be so lonely.
“Thanks! Now what can I get you?” but, she seemed way to peepy in the morning.
“Coffee. Hot coffee.”
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So, I wanted to try writing a short story. Let me know how I did?